Henrik Ibsen

“ Wangel (sadly) . Perhaps it would be better for us both if we parted—And yet, I cannot! You are the terror to me, Ellida; the attraction is what is strongest in you.
Ellida. Do you say that?
Wangel. Let us try and live through this day wisely—in perfect quiet of mind. I dare not set you free, and release you today. I have no right to. No right for your own sake, Ellida. I exercise my right and my duty to protect you.
Ellida. Protect? What is there to protect me from? I am not threatened by any outward power. The terror lies deeper, Wangel. The terror is—the attraction in my own mind. ”

“ Wangel. What do you see?
Ellida. I see that the life we two live together—is really no marriage.
Wangel (bitterly) . You have spoken truly there. The life we now live is not a marriage.
Ellida. Nor was it formerly. Never—not from the very first (looks straight in front of her) . The first—that might have been a complete and real marriage.
Wangel. The first—what do you mean?
Ellida. Mine—with him.
Wangel (looks at her in astonishment) . I do not in the least understand you.
Ellida. Ah! dear Wangel, let us not lie to one another, nor to ourselves.
Wangel. Well—what more? ”

“ Ellida. Do you mean because of the vow?
The Stranger. Vows bind no one, neither man nor woman. If I hold so steadfastly to you, it is because I cannot do otherwise.
Ellida (in a low, trembling voice) . Why didn't you come before?
Wangel. Ellida!
Ellida (bursting out) . Ah! All that attracts, and tempts, and lures into the unknown! All the strength of the sea concentrated in this one thing!
(The STRANGER climbs over the fence.)
Ellida (stepping back to WANGEL) . What is it? What do you want?
The Stranger. I see it and I hear it in you, Ellida. ”

“ Wangel. Yes. Yours is an honest nature, Ellida—yours is a faithful mind.
Ellida. It is.
Wangel. Any position in which you could feel safe and happy must be a completely true and real one.
Ellida (looking eagerly at him) . Well, and then?
Wangel. You are not suited to be a man's second wife.
Ellida. What makes you think that?
Wangel. It has often flashed across me like a foreboding. Today it was clear to me. The children's memorial feast—you saw in me a kind of accomplice. Well, yes; a man's memories, after all, cannot be wiped out—not so mine, anyhow. ”

“ Wangel (looks searchingly at her) . Now just think a little, dear Ellida. Or perhaps you can't quite remember how he looked when he stood by you at Bratthammer?
Ellida (thoughtfully closing her eyes for a moment) . Not quite distinctly. No, today I can't. Is it not strange?
Wangel. Not so very strange after all. You have now been confronted by a new and real image, and that overshadows the old one, so that you can no longer see it.
Ellida. Do you believe that, Wangel?
Wangel. Yes. And it overshadows your sick imaginings, too. That is why it is good a reality has come.
Ellida. Good? ”

“ Ellida. And so I have nothing to help me to resist. Here, at home, there is no single thing that attracts me and binds me. I am so absolutely rootless in your house, Wangel. The children are not mine—their hearts, I mean—never have been. When I go, if I do go, either with him tonight, or to Skjoldviken tomorrow, I haven't a key to give up, an order to give about anything whatsoever. I am absolutely rootless in your house—I have been absolutely outside everything from the very first. ”

“ Wangel. Yes, indeed, it is terrible!
Ellida. That is why I feel I must plunge into it.
Wangel (looking at her) . Because it seems terrible?
Ellida. Yes; because of that.
Wangel (coming closer) . Listen, Ellida. What do you really mean by terrible?
Ellida (reflectively) . The terrible is that which repels and attracts.
Wangel. Attracts, you say?
Ellida. Attracts most of all, I think.
Wangel (slowly) . You are one with the sea.
Ellida. That, too, is a terror.
Wangel. And that terror is in you. You both repel and attract.
Ellida. Do you think so, Wangel? ”

“ Ellida (looking after the ship) . Tomorrow, then!
Wangel. And then never again.
Ellida (in a low, imploring tone) . Oh! Wangel, save me from myself!
Wangel (looks anxiously at her) . Ellida—I feel there is something behind this—
Ellida. There is—the temptation!
Wangel. Temptation?
Ellida. The man is like the sea!
(She goes slowly and thoughtfully through the garden, and out to the left. WANGEL walks uneasily by her side, watching her closely.) ”

“ Wangel (looks lovingly at her) . Ellida! Ellida! To think that now we can live wholly for one another—
Ellida. And with common memories. Yours, as well as mine.
Wangel. Yes, indeed, dear.
Ellida. And for our children, Wangel?
Wangel. You call them ours!
Ellida. They who are not mine yet, but whom I shall win.
Wangel. Ours! (Gladly and quickly kisses her hands.) I cannot speak my thanks for those words!
(HILDE, BALLESTED, LYNGSTRAND, ARNHOLM, and BOLETTE come into the garden. At the same time a number of young townspeople and visitors pass along the footpath.) ”

“ Wangel?
Ellida. Never; only those little trips in the fjord here.
Bolette (with a sigh) . Ah, no! I suppose we must put up with the dry land.
Arnholm. Well, after all, that really is our home.
Ellida. No; I don't think it is.
Arnholm. Not the land?
Ellida. No; I don't believe so. I think that if only men had from the beginning accustomed themselves to live on the sea, or in the sea perhaps, we should be more perfect than we are—both better and happier.
Arnholm. You really think that?
Ellida. Yes. I should like to know if we should not. I've often spoken to Wangel about it. ”

“ Bolette. Well, all that about this being a rendezvous, and a terminus for the busy world—that's something you've heard the townsfolk here saying. Yes—they're in the habit of saying that sort of thing.
Arnholm. Well, frankly, I've noticed that, too.
Bolette. But really there's not an atom of truth in it. Not for us who always live here. What good is it to us that the great strange world comes hither for a time on its way North to see the midnight sun? We ourselves have no part in that; we see nothing of the midnight sun. No! We've got to be good, and live our lives here in our carp pond. ”

“ Bolette. If she does go home to Skjoldviken tomorrow, she will never come back here again!
Arnholm. My dear Bolette, whatever makes you think that?
Bolette. I am quite convinced of it. Just you wait; you'll see that she'll not come back again; not anyhow as long as I and Hilde are in the house here.
Arnholm. Hilde, too?
Bolette. Well, it might perhaps be all right with Hilde. For she is scarcely more than a child. And I believe that at bottom she worships Ellida. But, you see, it's different with me—a stepmother who isn't so very much older than oneself! ”

“ Wangel. Haven't you noticed that the people from out there by the open sea are, in a way, a people apart? It is almost as if they themselves lived the life of the sea. There is the rush of waves, and ebb and flow too, both in their thoughts and in their feelings, and so they can never bear transplanting. Oh! I ought to have remembered that. It was a sin against Ellida to take her away from there, and bring her here. ”

“ Wangel. And now I live here so happily with her who has taken her place. Ah! On the whole, fate has been very good to me.
Arnholm. You have no children by your second marriage? Wangel. We had a little boy, two—two and a half years ago. But he didn't stay long. He died when he was four—five months old.
Arnholm. Isn't your wife at home today?
Wangel. Oh, yes. She's sure to be here soon. She's down there bathing. She does so every blessed day no matter what the weather. ”

“ But, of course, I know such things can only happen in a marriage that is faithful, and loving, and really happy.
Bolette. Has it never occurred to you that a man, too, might, perhaps, be thus drawn over to his wife? Grow like her, I mean.
Lyngstrand. A man? No, I never thought of that.
Bolette. But why not one as well as the other?
Lyngstrand. No; for a man has a calling that he lives for; and that's what makes a man so strong and firm, Miss Wangel. He has a calling in life.
Bolette. Has every man? ”

“ Great stones arranged as seats around the beacon, and in the foreground. Farther back the outer fjord is seen, with islands and outstanding headlands. The open sea is not visible. It is a summer's evening, and twilight. A golden-red shimmer is in the air and over the mountain-tops in the far distance. A quartette is faintly heard singing below in the background. Young townsfolk, ladies and gentlemen, come up in pairs, from the right, and, talking familiarly, pass out beyond the beacon. ”

“ Here's a visitor.
(LYNGSTRAND comes along the road, and enters the garden. He has a flower in his button-hole, and carries a large, handsome bouquet done up in paper and silk ribbons. He stands somewhat hesitatingly and undecidedly by the verandah.)
Ellida (from the arbour) . Have you come to see the girls, Mr. Lyngstrand?
Lyngstrand (turning round) . Ah, madam, are you there? (Bows, and comes nearer.) No, it's not that. It's not the young ladies. It's you yourself, Mrs. Wangel. You know you gave me permission to come and see you Ellida. Of course I did. You are always welcome here. ”

“ Wangel. There is nothing to think over here. See that you get away.
The Stranger (still to ELLIDA) . Now I'm going with the steamer up the fjord. Tomorrow night I will come again, and then I shall look for you here. You must wait for me here in the garden, for I prefer settling the matter with you alone; you understand?
Ellida (in low, trembling tone) . Do you hear that, Wangel?
Wangel. Only keep calm. We shall know how to prevent this visit.
The Stranger. Goodbye for the present, Ellida. So tomorrow night—
Ellida (imploringly) . Oh! no, no! Do not come tomorrow night! ”

“ No ordinary doctor and no ordinary medicines can help her.
Arnholm. How is she today?
Wangel. I was upstairs with her just now, and then she seemed to me quite calm; but behind all her moods something lies hidden which it is impossible for me to fathom; and then she is so changeable, so capricious—she varies so suddenly.
Arnholm. No doubt that is the result of her morbid state of mind.
Wangel. Not altogether. When you go down to the bedrock, it was born in her. Ellida belongs to the sea-folk. That is the matter. ”

“ Yes, for it was in the shipwreck that I got this little weakness—of my chest. I was so long in the ice-cold water before they picked me up; and so I had to give up the sea. Yes, that was very fortunate.
Arnholm. Indeed! Do you think so?
Lyngstrand. Yes, for the weakness isn't dangerous; and now I can be a sculptor, as I so dearly want to be. Just think; to model in that delicious clay, that yields so caressingly to your fingers!
Ellida. And what are you going to model? Is it to be mermen and mermaids? Or is it to be old Vikings? ”

“ But I worked myself into the belief that here was a young girl longing for me to come again—No, you mustn't interrupt me, dear Bolette! And—you see, when a man like myself, who is no longer quite young, has such a belief—or fancy, it makes an overwhelming impression. ”

“ Wangel. Grown up! Well, there's only one grown up.
Hilde (aside) . Just listen to father!
Wangel. But now let's sit down up there on the verandah. It's cooler than here. Won't you?
Arnholm. Thanks, thanks, dear doctor.
(They go up. WANGEL motions him to the rocking-chair.)
Wangel. That's right! Now make yourself comfortable, and rest, for you seem rather tired after your journey.
Arnholm. Oh, that's nothing. Here, amid these surroundings Bolette (to WANGEL) . Hadn't we better have some soda and syrup in the sitting-room? It's sure to be too hot out here soon.
Wangel. Yes, girls. ”